


Little Moments

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Accidents, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14061138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'Hello. I'm the one who wanted the Micky fan fic based on the song 'Little moments' Micky and reader please.'Song is Brad Paisley's 'Little Moments'.





	Little Moments

_Well, I’ll never forget the first time that I heard  
_ _that pretty mouth say that dirty word._

“Shit! Shit shit shit.”

You jerk back, and then gasp, but it’s too late - when the glass baking dish hits the hob, it doesn’t shatter, but it does crack, and you stare at it. Tears well in your frustrated eyes, and you put your hands to your face.

“Fuck…”

“What’s all the swearing for?”

You turn your head, and Micky’s in the doorway, looking concerned.

“Did you burn yourself?” he asks, quietly, and you nod, trying to bat at your tears. “Oh, sweetheart, for real?”

_But she covered her mouth and her face got red  
and she just looked so darn cute._

He reaches out and pulls you into his arms, before taking your hand. The skin is already beginning to redden - he kisses it gently, and leads you over to the sink, turning the cold tap on.

“Is that dinner?” he asks, and you nod. “Stay here.” He goes and prods through it. “Uh… it’s got some glass in it.” You bow your head and begin to sob again, and he comes back over. “Uh-uh. Take out. My treat.”

_That I couldn’t even act like I was mad,  
Yeah, I live for little moments like that_.

“Let’s get in the car.”

* * *

_I know she’s not perfect but she tries so hard for me-_

You shake your head, and Micky looks over, squeezing your hand.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

“I just mess up. I mess up all the time,” you mumble. “Do you hate me?”

_And I thank God that she isn’t, ‘cause how boring would that be._

“Why the hell would I hate you for not being perfect? I’m not perfect. Far from it, baby.” He grins at you, and you shake your head dolefully. “Listen, sweetheart. I adore you. Even when you fuck up. Especially when you fuck up. It makes you you.”

“But it’s so frustrating.” You look sideways at him.

_It’s the little imperfections, it’s the sudden change in plans_ -

“Yeah, but… only if you get hung up on it, baby. Look. We got pizza. For dinner. And I get to eat it with you.” You look at him, eyes wide and dewy with tears, and he smiles, squeezing your leg. “And that’s what matters. You make our paths change, and that’s cool, baby.”

_When she misreads the directions and we’re lost but holding hands-_

“Now, _I’m_ gonna map-read to get us home.” He leans in, and kisses you, sincerely. “And I hope you’re here for the rest of my life to keep fucking shit up. Promise me you will be?” You nod slowly, and he beams at you. “Your shirt’s on inside out.”

You look down, and groan, but smile as he kisses you again.

_Yeah, I live for little moments like that._

 


End file.
